


Tea Cups and Time Travel

by LaLimonata



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 14:20:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14695989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLimonata/pseuds/LaLimonata
Summary: Hermione can't sleep, so she sneaks into the RoR late at night but is thrust back in time. She is frustrated but she's going to keep calm and carry on. AU from sixth year. Supposed to be some kind of quick fic but I lowkey doubt it rn but I want Cave to be my focus oh well.Defo not as dark as cave? Maybe?Update: Not convinced by this so will probably remain unfinished for a long time.





	Tea Cups and Time Travel

**Author's Note:**

> So I know I'm supposed to be doing Cave, which I am but the next bit of Cave requires much thought and I just finished my exams but my depression/anxiety has reared its ugly head again. And don't worry if your reading my salazar fic because i have that planned. And much love and thanks to all of you who put kudos and comments <3 they make my day
> 
> Anyway couldn't sleep cos of this plot bunny, and wanted to try writing a mixed race Hermione, so if you have any advice (I'm going to try to deal with racism) please let me know! (Because I'm white).

Hermione cursed Harry under her breath. She had finally gotten him to get rid of the Half Blood Prince’s stupid book, and now she couldn’t stop thinking about it. It had been two long weeks without much sleep. She turned over for what seemed like the hundredth time, staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Fuck it.”

Sometimes Hermione wished she wasn’t a Gryffindor as she cast a silencing spell on herself. Carefully, she got up and grabbed the cloak and map she had confiscated from Harry earlier that week. He needed to sleep! Obsessing over Malfoy so much wasn’t healthy, and besides, he had essays to write. 

Satisfied that her best friends were tucked up in bed, or at least in their dorm, she checked the outside of the common room before slipping out. She hurried up to the seventh floor, her burning curiosity urging her through the small door that appeared. 

Stuffing the cloak and map into her pocket, she gazed about the room. It was filled with junk: old school hats, the odd cauldron, stacks of chairs and countless other items.

Hermione swore quietly under her breath. It would take her forever to look for one book amongst piles of textbooks. 

“Accio Half Blood Prince book,” she whispered, peering into the gloomy room. Miscellaneous objects were piled so high that the lights were obscured. She turned around, stepping forward just as the book whizzed into her back. Blindly, Hermione grabbed onto the first thing she could reach as she winced in pain. 

A light flashed.

Hermione cursed Harry and her own curiosity again before blacking out.  
****  
A groan echoed through the room as Hermione came to her senses. How long had she been asleep? Luckily it was Friday night when she left so she had no classes to rush to. She looked at her watch, she’d only been out for an hour or so. It was nearly one in the morning. The room span as she stood up, and she blinked to try and clear the dizziness. The headache lingered as she grabbed her book, pulled on the cloak, and slipped out of the room. 

She heard voices as she hurried down the stairs and cast a silencing spell on herself. Shaking, she edged around the corner, hoping she wouldn’t get caught. “Just slip past them,” she muttered to herself. She watched them as she stayed in the shadows cast by the boy’s lumos.

“Out late again, Miss Fortescue?”

The blonde girl looked down and blushed, “Sorry Tom. I was studying in the library and I lost track of time.”

The boy arched an eyebrow, “Do you make a habit of studying in your pajamas?”

Stepping closer to him, she stammered out a negative response. Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust; this was clearly the foreplay to some romantic tryst. She wished she could take house points.

“I’m sorry, Miss Fortescue, but it’s my duty as Head Boy to take ten points from Hufflepuff. And I’ll have to give you detention. It is the third time I’ve caught you this week. A prefect ought to know better.”

He flashed her a perfect smile, and she blushed again. She stepped closer, fluttering her eyelashes, “Tom, isn’t there some other way? I really don’t want detention.”

Head Boy? Prefect? Hermione was baffled. She tiptoed closer, holding her breath. She didn’t know any prefects called Fortescue. In fact she wasn’t sure she knew anyone by that name bar the ice cream vendor. Sure enough, a shiny Head Boy’s badge glinted on the boy’s chest, but she knew for a fact the Head Boy was not called Tom.

Hermione fled back to the Room of Requirement, leaving only a hint of freesias, a scent caught only by the ever-alert Head Boy.

Pacing, she asked for a room to calm down in, and walked into a plush, maroon library. She curled up on the sofa by the fire before pulling out the Marauder’s map. Harry and Ron were gone, in their place were Henry Potter and Rupert Prewett. Dumbledore had been replaced Dippet in the Headmaster’s office. Dumbledore was in McGonnagall’s office At least, she saw McGonnagall although she was confused as to why she was in the seventh-year dorms. Slughorn was accounted for. Everyone else was different, and when she frantically searched for even Malfoy she found an Abraxas Malfoy instead. She paled as she read the name prowling the corridors near the kitchens with one Gregoria Fortescue.  
It was that of a teenage dark lord.

****  
Being British, Hermione took a deep breath and decided she needed tea. She called out for Dobby. 

He failed to appear. She reassured herself that he was probably just busy and she cast the simple spell he had told her about to summon a Hogwarts elf.

“Hello Miss, how can I help?” An elf wearing a towel with the Hogwarts insignia bowed.

“Hello. What’s your name? I’m Hermione.”

“Mistress wants to know my name?” he asked suspiciously.

“Yes,” she smiled encouragingly. “Can I know your name? And can I have a tea for one please with today’s newspaper.”

“I can’t sleep,” she added to appease him.

He seemed to accept this as he simply replied, “Yes Miss, I’s Benzy.”

He reappeared moments later with apologies that the newspaper was from the day before as they hadn’t been delivered yet. He cowered slightly as he said this.

“That’s okay Benzy! Don’t worry about it.” The elf seemed a little shocked as he bowed before disapparating.

Hermione took a calming sip of tea before looking at the paper with shaking hands. As she suspected it was not her time. In fact it was October 1944.

“Fuck,” she thought, dropping her mug. She cast a drying spell on herself, and fixed the mug with a note of apologies to Benzy.

She needed to sleep and think on it the morning. A door appeared at the back of the library which she gratefully followed into a large bedroom and sank into the bed.

***  
Hermione woke up not feeling refreshed. In fact she was far more anxious than the night before, possibly because she had been in shock the night before. She was stuck in a different time. 

She decided she would just follow her normal routine but as she stepped into the bathroom; casting a waterproofing charm on her hair, she realised she didn’t have any of her haircare products. She had only just figured out how to care for her curls. Her mum had been on the receiving end of many rants about how black and mixed-race hair care wasn’t normalised. And as her mother was her black and her father was white her hair was not quite either, but it was also different from other mixed-race people’s hair because no gene mix was ever the same. 

Drying herself off, she left the bathroom before removing the waterproofing charm on her hair, praying that it wouldn’t frizz. Hermione didn’t care too much about her appearance besides what she felt comfortable with but years of taunts about her hair had made it a sensitive issue. Looking in the mirror she was happy that it hadn’t frizzed. She looked down at her pajamas, frowning.

She found pen and paper in the library, making a list that went something like this:

1\. Hair care products and clothes? Ask Benzy or try RoR.  
2\. Books on time travel.  
3\. Books on hair spells??? Combination of Europe& Africa? Try S. America.  
4\. Food -> Benzy  
5\. Plan – what if I can’t go back?

She didn’t particularly want to think about 5 but she would either have to live in this room for the rest of her life, which seemed unsustainable, or try and make a life for herself. She made another list on things she knew about Voldemort at this time. It must be his 7th year as he was Head Boy. She chilled as she realised how close to him she had been the night before. She shook her head, thinking on the horcruxes, and adding that as a sixth item to research on her list. He had the diary and the ring. She knew he’d make seven, but he’d only made two by now. They must be in the castle, so maybe she could destroy them and kill him? But what if that destroyed the timeline?

Hermione took slow deep breaths. The lessons Professor McGonnagall had imparted on her in her third year had left her with a healthy fear and deep-seated respect for the mysteries of time. She was an avid follower of science and had her own theories of how magic fit, but time was not something she wanted to meddle with.

She sighed before deciding she probably should ask Benzy for breakfast, and tea.


End file.
